


Godhood

by lorry



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Crossover, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 18:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3079982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorry/pseuds/lorry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gaea throws Percy a bit farther off than anywhere near Earth.<br/>Throwing Percy in Essos isn't so much throwing a rock, as throwing a boulder in a puddle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Godhood

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Ryuugi of Spacebattles fame, in this plot idea he posted here: http://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/percy-jackson-and-the-olympians-idea-discussion-recommendation-thread.245423/page-9

“Khaleesi,” the servant girl murmured, a bowl of fruit offered propped on bended knee, attracting the attention of the khaleesi’s brother, if not the khaleesi herself.

“How long must we wait?” he snarled in an undertone to the girl on the throne, masking his raging discontent with a half peeled tangerine raised to his sneering lips, eyes anywhere but where hers were fixated on.

Daenerys did not deign to respond to Viserys, or to anything else in her vicinity for that matter, as she looked onwards to the sea, to the gathering storm. His fingers nearly crushed the rind at the utter insolence of the lack of acknowledgment—it took all he had not to whip around and backhand her across the face—but the display of pure unimaginable power before them barred him better than a ring of guards could have done.

That display...

The “ _man”_ making it...

A tempest whippedthe waves to a frenzy even as a squall harangued the skies and the sea cliffs, while the man who was at the eye of it all stood with upraised arms and an ecstatic face illuminated in flashes of lightning, wet to the bone and _glorying_ in it, the spray rushing from the shore to climb up his legs and bare chest, as if attempting to mantle him in proper regalia befitting the son of the sea god--

\--his all too mortal thralls and devotees hovered as close to the shoreline as they dared, reverence and terror fighting to rise above the other in their expressions. The royal siblings were secluded in the covered parapet of the cliffside castle jutting out over the sea, accompanied by the rest of the khaleesi’s entourage. The Dothraki were ill at ease, their faces a study of stoicism and suspense; there was also just the faintest hint of self-satisfied vindication as they watched their khal subjugate the elements, beat the sea with its own raw fury.

“Until he judges the time to be right,” Daenerys said softly, startling him from his unwilling absorption with the supernatural phenomena before him.

“You give him too much power,” he rasped. She still did not spare him a look, but the incredulous smile she bore was obviously meant for him. “More power over _us_ ,” he clarified sharply. “We are _dragons_ , sister, we are _fire._ We are the blood of kings and queens, and we possess a magic of our own. We shouldn’t rely too much on such a foreign, unpredictable power. We must look to our own ways and means in order to reclaim the Seven Kingdoms. Those eggs--”

“We?” This time she did turn around and pinned him with a flat gaze. “When have you ever included me in your ambitions, brother? When have I ever mattered in your schemes except as one of your ‘means’?” She turned back in contemplation of the storm and its wielder once again. “I have already fulfilled my part. Do not ask more of me.”

_She’d--_

“--dare!” Whirling about abruptly so that the pulp smacked the cheek of the kneeling servant, he seized the other girl’s right arm, digging nails into the soft underside to get a better grip, and half-lifted her from her seat.

A jagged streak of lightning threw light on their figures starkly and caught on their silvery heads. The following whip crack of thunder made him loosen his grip and stagger back. One of the bloodriders, the most massively built one, Drogo, shoved him back peremptorily, but with enough force that he was thrown down on the flagstones and landed on his ribs.

He tasted copper, and hunched in on himself protectively, anticipating a boot to his gut or a fist to his skull. The lull stretched out until he raised his head and saw that they had went back to ignoring him again.

Slowly, he got up, flicking his cuffs and patting his doublet into order. Turning his back on them all, he took measured steps to the stairs, refusing to hurry away in ignominy.

“Viserys.”

It was the hiss of steel being unsheathed, and not the soft-spoken word, that halted him. Turning around stiffly, he saw Daenerys looking at him dejectedly, while behind her that Drogo again was easing his arakh from its place at his side with patent nonchalance.

Biting her lip, his sister looked back towards the beach, and then in his direction once more. “One egg,” she said. “You may have the black one. But the rest remain with me.”

Acutely aware of the blood coating his teeth, he gave a close-lipped smile and a bow. He can settle for one egg, for now.

Let Daenerys have her godling, and be just another of his worshipful subjects.

_He_ intended to ascend to godhood himself.

A god of fire and blood.


End file.
